Small Theory

She seemed to be awfully quiet all through the meeting, chewing absentmindedly at her short nails. They talked mostly about expenditures and a way of cutting down on spending. They told her to give the repairs at the inn a break and she shrugged and said nothing. The meeting wasn't exactly the type of meeting Little Rock Inns usually held, especially at this period when Christmas was so much fun.

But as John said, this meeting had to be done anyways. John was the financial advisor to Martha's father right until he died and passed it to her. And John loved her, of course, but she was wrecking the Inn with her need to renovate the place. She needed a break or the Inn was coming down the way her last marriage had. Not that he could tell her the semblance.

But as it is, it is imperative to understand young Martha's need for renovations. Perhaps by understanding her motive, we'll all be able to see why she was awfully quiet during a meeting she'd called for.

This is Martha's story.

The doctor was just packing up when Martha walked in. Her father was lying on the bed, the curtains open to reveal the sun as it splashes its orange glow across the room. Through it all, he looks pale.

The doctor smiles up at him and then frowns at her. She'd known him for many years, he was the doctor to her family and yet in all those years she'd hated him with all her heart.

Once her father had asked her why she hated the man and she'd smiled and said nothing other than he hardly ever smiles. But the truth was that she hated him because he had tried to rape her once.

"How's my precious father doing?" Martha hurries to his side and holds his hands.

Martha's father smiles weakly and leans over and presses a soft kiss on her cheek.

"I have written down some things he ought to do, miss Matha. And he should. Take bed rest for example. If he hopes to survive this he needs it."

"Of course. I'm sure you know your way out."

He walks out.

"Martha you really should start behaving a bit matured. Kelvin has been with this family since before you were born. At least give him some respect."

"I don't know, father. I want to but I can't."

"Why can't you sweetheart?"

She hesitates and then shut down completely. They both relapse into a deafening silence. Later she left him to prepare breakfast. When she comes back with the silver tray, the old man Jackson is dead.

The next day the Inn is hers.

But then the memories hung on and Martha knew she had to rid herself of it all. Renovating the damn place seemed appropriate and she knew she had to do it. It was too bad the bank was being so insensitive towards it. They were going to take it away from her with or without her stopping the renovations. And she hated it.

So this is Martha.

After the meeting, Martha walked back to her little garden and sat down on one of the benches. John came to her and sat down beside her. They were silent.

"I'm going to lose the place."

John said nothing at first but then thought better of it and said, "we can still save it."

"But how? John, you and I know that cutting those edges will not save this inn. This may very well be the last holiday season in business."

"Don't lose hope. This inn will move through the obstacle before it and next year we could all be celebrating another holiday season."

"And 'perhaps' is just hanging in the air. I don't know what to do John."

"Don't lose hope."

She hugged him. Then he walked away and she relapsed into another silence. Slowly she began to chew at her nails and watch as the leaves moved with the rhythm of the breeze.

It could be the last holiday season at the Inn but it would be the best. She knew it. She just had to believe it.